


the horizon looks pretty far away from here

by chamomilekai



Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Elytra, Friendship, Gen, Grian has a brush with death, Grian has another brush with death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and Mumbo takes care of him, and family I guess, this is just me exploring some more mechanics of how elytra work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamomilekai/pseuds/chamomilekai
Summary: A collection of Hermitcraft drabbles/shorts so I can experiment with some worldbuilding and mechanics of Hermitcraft/Minecraft as well as some character dynamics.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133





	1. void

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a little experiment on the mechanics of elytra and Grian and Mumbo's friendship.

The wind smelled like dust and vaguely of gunpowder as it flew past his face and tangled his hair. The darkness made it hard to see, and it seemed to close in around him, crushing his senses. Grian blinked open his eyes, searching through the swirling inky dark for what he had dived for in the first place. There it was. He spotted it farther down than he would have liked, falling and catching the air haphazardly within the darkness. He pulled his arms back as far as he could, a full dive rippling through his clothes. This was going to be difficult; he let go of his elytra and started freefalling, almost completely out of control. His fingers grasped towards the two shulker shells that had fallen from the end city above him. There was no time; he snatched the shells and shoved them in the waistband of his pants, turning his head to look up at where he had come from. The endstone islands were barely visible from where he was falling, and he struggled to grab onto the handles that would let him gain control of his elytra again.

Grian could feel the void closing in on him, moments away from consuming his mind and making him lost forever. At the last possible moment, he managed to grab hold of the worn leather straps on his wings and pull roughly downwards, the sudden upward movement pulling on his harness and knocking the breath out of him.

It was reckless, he knew that. As he floated upwards for a moment, he knew he wouldn't have enough momentum to reach land. The rockets in his pack were a stretch to grab with one hand, especially as he sacrificed control for a moment and fluttered downwards on the wings that were so flimsy without support. He managed to get a hand on his rockets though, and fell for a few more precious moments as he struggled to light one against the strip on his boots with the unpreparedness of his dive, and the amount of draft. The fuse lit, and he aimed the end of the scroll of paper downwards just before it erupted into white smoke, propelling him upwards with enough force for Grian to get his hands back on his elytra while he watched the discarded paper and gunpowder rocket flutter downwards into the void.

It was smooth sailing from here. Grian directed his momentum upwards and flew past the floating islands, curving his flight around and landing not-too-gently onto the crumbled endstone, exhausted. He was alive though. As he thought about it now, standing and brushing himself off, that was kind of a stupid thing to do, especially for just a few shulker shells, which he could easily get more of, but there was something about the thrill of flying that excited him. He glanced back at the abandoned end city he had just raided before pulling out the spare shells from his waistband and putting them properly in his pack. With another rocket, he got back up in the air and began to make his way towards the direction he had come.

\-----

"How stupid are you?" Mumbo sounded firm, with a bit of worry peeking through his words.

They were in Mumbo's bunker, his current base of operations and where Grian tended to be most times he managed to crash his elytra straight into the floor. The area was nice, situated underneath a small island a ways off the coast of the mainland, and cozy. The lanterns around the perimeter of the room gave a soft glow to the acacia logs and warm stone inlaid in the walls. The place was homely, with some bookshelves in strategic places that made the bunker feel more like a base and less like a cave, though since Mumbo was still unfinished, parts of the room definitely gave off a cave-like vibe, especially the darker area in the back, where Grian could swear he could hear the low groans of zombies. Mumbo had confirmed to him that the spawner was under control, and though there were loads of useful things to come from sources of monsters, Grian didn't fancy the idea of Mumbo getting eaten by the undead in his sleep.

Mumbo had even more of an edge of concern as the lecture went on. "Grian, you could have died!" He reminded Grian of their current conversation and took Giran's chin to turn his head, trying to observe the other mild injury on his face. His landing wasn't as nasty as some of his crashes, but at least those were in the overworld, where things were much more manageable.

"I didn't thou- oUCH!" Giran flinched as Mumbo applied a bit of a healing potion to a cut on his jaw, feeling the sting and the strange sensation of his skin repairing itself within seconds. "Listen, you know I'm good at flying."

Mumbo stepped back, rolling his shirt sleeves back down and letting a heavy sigh escape his lips. "But for a few shulker shells, you launched yourself into the void? People don't come back from there."

He was right. Mumbo was giving him a parental look, though his eyes were still laced with some internal worry and anxiety. And while Grian’s flying was good, this wasn’t the first time he had been in Mumbo’s base, sitting on this chair, with Mumbo looking upset at him. For the record, Mumbo's base was surprisingly tidy considering the ways Grian manages to mess with him constantly. Apparently, Mumbo couldn’t handle listening to the constant clucking of manually-placed chickens anymore and had cleaned them all up from the last time. Grian made a mental note to make sure that this place was much louder later.

“You’re lucky your elytra didn’t break, look at them.” 

"I know." Grian wished desperately for the subject to be changed, risking a peek back at his partly-tattered wings almost crushed against the stone wall behind him, but before long, Mumbo's look of disapproval softened to one of just mild concern. He moved to put his suit jacket back on while Grian inspected the first aid on his injuries, which was now complete and healed, though feeling a bit numb for the moment.

He rubbed his arm, trying to work the feeling back into it, waiting for Mumbo to say something else and getting nervous when he didn’t.

Mumbo paused, straightening the cuff of his sleeve. “Just…” he started.

Grian got ready for the rest of the lecture about how he shouldn’t have put himself in such a dangerous situation with that much of a risk and he should have taken more precautions or worn better armor. He moved his eyes up to the ceiling and sucked in a breath to blunt the feeling in his stomach that came with being in trouble.

“At least ask me to come with you next time.”

Mumbo was looking at the floor, swiping absentmindedly at a few fragments of redstone dust lingering on the hem of his dress shirt. He sounded sincere.

“What?” Grian didn’t feel the drop in his stomach that he had been expecting, he just felt like the atmosphere of the room had completely changed.

Mumbo must have thought Grian meant that he hadn’t heard. “I just want you to ask me to come with you next time you put yourself in danger so…” he repeated. Mumbo carded a hand through dark hair, rocking on his heels. “I just want to be there in case you get hurt. I’d hate to see you leave to go explore somewhere and never come back-” He mumbled something unintelligible near the end that Grian didn’t quite catch.

Grian felt a smile tug at the edges of his lips.

“What was that at the end, Mumbo?” He grinned, the air turning more lighthearted around them with every second.

“I said, I care about you and you’re my friend.” Mumbo moved to fold his arms, one hand poised over his mouth to try and cover his face from being read. He was looking away, a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks above his mustache.

“Awe, Mumbo, I love you too. You’re fantastic.” Grian stood and threw an arm over his friend’s shoulder, catching him off guard.

“Well, that,” Mumbo started, flustered by most types of compliments, “that might have been a little farther than I would have thought.” he chuckled, and Grian laughed along.

“Thanks for the consideration, Mumbo Jumbo, maybe I will ask you to come with me next time, if you’re so worried about me.”

“Get out of my base, Grian.” Mumbo teased as he aimed a friendly jab at Grian’s side.

Grian beamed, thankful for his friends, Mumbo included. He twisted around to try to smooth out some of the crinkles in his elytra, making his way towards the ladder that lead out of Mumbo’s bunker. They said their farewells as he climbed.

The sun was bright during midday, and Grian forgot how dark it could be underground, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the white reflections off the ocean surface and the bright blue sky.

The breeze ruffled his hair, and he longed to fly. He prepped a rocket, attaching it to the strap on his boot right above the light strip. Making his way up the tallest mound on Mumbo’s small island, he looped his hands through the handles of his elytra, bending his knees to jump. He kicked the fuse against the rough patch on his shoes and it lit, and before it went off, he leaped at high as he could, squeezing his knees tight together as the gunpowder blast pushed him up enough to catch the wind.

He adjusted himself to utilize it before he could fall back down, and the forgiving ocean breezes lifted him into the sky where he gained more control. It made him wish he had real wings. To be able to fly whenever and from wherever he wanted would be a dream come true.

For now, though, his elytra would suffice, carrying him along currents in the sky as he prepared himself for the short journey back to his own base.


	2. hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happened to Grian, but his friends are always looking out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For added effect, listen to Clair de lune while you read this ;)
> 
> This has nothing to do with the previous chapter, these are all just individual experiments.

This was it.

Grian took a shaky breath. His lungs heaved as his body tried to cough but couldn’t. He could feel the dull throbbing in his chest slow to an ache. He was drowning in his thoughts, his eyes searching, but his eyelids refusing to open all the way. He could see shapes and colors but nothing tangible. He thought he could hear a voice; he felt hands on his arms. He could barely feel them. His body was numb with pain. A clicking sound? Another set of hands on his body. It was hard to keep his eyes open when he couldn’t see much. There was a splash of green, then red in his vision. He could feel the touch of fingers moving his hair off of his forehead, so delicately but so distinctly. The sliding of something off his shoulders. His elytra. Don’t take those away, those were his wings. He needed those. If he couldn’t fly then what would he be worth- ? Pressure on his cheeks. Hands again. The same delicate touch. Who was here with him? He didn’t know; he felt like he was floating except for those hands on his face. Grian’s ears rang until they didn’t, more voices coming slowly into perspective. Someone was talking. Two people were talking, but it didn’t sound like anything Grian could understand. His body hurt. He felt it all of a sudden and could hear himself groan in his head. It echoed in his skull. The voices again. The hands on his face tensed and let go. Don’t let go.

“Oh gods, Grian-”

He could hear, and touch returned to his senses. There was grass under him. Not as soft as the fingers moving his hair behind his ears again, but the pressure of the ground against his back was comforting. Pain surged intermittently through his torso, making him choke on the little air he was managing to breathe. He tried to open his eyes again and had the overwhelming urge to rub them. The lights hurt. It was shining white gently against a form above him. There were people there. Their features began to come into focus.

“Grian, oh my goodness, are you awake?”

It sounded like Iskall. Grian hoped it was Iskall. He would know what to do. He tried to smile, tried to say something but only began to cough, each one racking his body and making more pain shoot up his sides. He winced.

“He’s conscious, at least, Mumbo go get the potion, quick-”

The gentle fingers Grian felt against his forehead and cheeks receded. Mumbo was here? What had happened to Grian? His mind was beginning to start back up again, questions flooding in and pain too, though his body kept him numb enough to not feel it in full force.

“Yes, Mumbo will be right back,” Iskall said. What was he talking about? Had Grian said something aloud? He couldn’t remember.

“Grian, come on, dude, I need you to look at me.”

He was trying. It was hard to open his eyes. He tried a second time, aware of the pain in his body again. He could see a lot clearer now. Iskall was above him, single eye looking concerned, robot eye looking green and… robot-y. Above Iskall was the sky. Ah, he wished he were flying, and if he weren’t in so much pain, it kind of felt as if he were flying. He felt the ground under him, but his senses still wavered, dangerously, he might add. The only thing keeping him grounded was Iskall’s hands firmly on his shoulder and arm. Iskall was looking off to the side, distracted, no, focused on something. He said something, but Grian didn’t hear anything. His heartbeat thudded in his ears.

He was about to close his eyes again, his body feeling heavy when he heard someone settling in the grass. A hand graced his jaw, sliding over his ear to hold his head from behind his neck. Grian forced his eyes open. He could see pink and purple, something shiny. Cold glass touched his lips. The hand behind his head lifted slightly. He could see a face. Liquid spilled out of his mouth and down his cheek to his neck. He tried to swallow. His body did it for him.

“Please, Grian…”

It wasn’t Iskall’s voice. He could see Mumbo’s mouth moving in front of him. The hand on his neck was shaky and a little unsure. The glass on his mouth tapped accidentally against his teeth. He drank. The shaking subsided a bit. Mumbo looked at Grian, face twisted into worry. Something in his eyes pleading with something, with the universe.

Grian tried to look a little more intently at Mumbo, to tell his friend that it was alright, whatever it was. He tried to smile. It must have come out pained because Mumbo’s brow furrowed. He looked over at Iskall. Grian didn’t stop looking at Mumbo. His eyes felt heavy, but the pain in his body faded a bit. Achiness began to overtake him. He didn’t want to close his eyes again.

The faces of his friends looked tired.

“It’s alright, Grian, you’ll be okay.”

Iskall nodded assuredly as he spoke, and Mumbo seemed to desperately look for more confirmation in the redstoner’s face. Iskall nodded again. Grian didn’t remember anything else.

\-----

Grian woke to a wool blanket and a feather pillow. His body ached but his mind was much clearer now, at least. He opened his eyes, feeling more energized than he thought he would, and he searched his mind for any kind of memory of what had happened to him, disappointed to find none, but unsurprised. He had been really out. Pain shot through his body when he tried to shift from his side onto his back, and he groaned, hearing not only the sound of the sheets under him moving but also someone from off to his left.

“Grian, hey…” A hand settled on his shoulder, and Grian saw Mumbo above him as he tried to turn. “Are you alright? Don’t push yourself.”

Concern graced Mumbo’s words and it felt familiar to Grian. The worried, awkward, funny way that was just so Mumbo made him happy. He felt his heart swell in admiration.

“I’m alright, I think… what happened to me?” Grian’s head hurt and speaking felt strange. He tried to sit up and Mumbo guided him with his hands, letting Grian grab his arm for support. “Where are my elytra?”

He took a quick glance around the room. He was surrounded by warm, jagged oak wood walls, with shelves nailed by hand on to the rough bark. The shelves were chock full of varied bottles of honey and glowing potions, some haphazardly knocked over and spilling honey and night vision into messy pools on the spruce flooring. The room was a comfortable size and furnished sparsely, with a few chairs near the bed Grain was sitting in, a few bookshelves, and a table in the middle of the room, completely bare. In the distance, there was a step up into a wide patch of grass and openings into other rooms. He couldn’t see much farther; his elytra were nowhere to be found.

Mumbo waited until Grian let go of him before pulling a chair up next to the bed and settling in it.

“You crashed… bad. Iskall saw you freefalling while we were working on a project, and we expected you to pull out of it like you usually do, you know? Expert flyer and all.” Mumbo chuckled nervously, gesturing playfully but sounding terribly guilty. “But you didn’t- and you fell behind the treeline and we didn’t see you come back up.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, crossing his arms and failing to hide the ever-present concern in his voice as he continued.

“We rushed over to where we saw you fall, and we found you just, a crumpled mess on the jungle floor. You were completely out, and we almost thought you had died. Grian- I-... I’m so glad- we’re so glad you’re alright.” 

Mumbo was tripping over his words now, his hands gripping his knees, and Grian bit his tongue against the pain as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around his friend. Mumbo settled into the hug after a few moments, sighing heavily with relief, his face resting comfortably in the crook of Grian’s neck.

“Your elyra are completely torn up. The trees and bushes are probably what damaged them.” Mumbo said, sounding guilty once again like it was his fault somehow that Grian had fallen and broken his wings. “We found you and brought you here to Iskall’s place. I just hope you're feeling better.”

“I can get new elytra, it’s okay,” Grian muttered. He let go of Mumbo’s shoulders slowly, wincing slightly in pain still. Mumbo voiced concern and Grian laughed, telling him it was okay.

He crashed sometimes. Well, he crashed his elytra a lot more than he’d like to admit, but despite that, Grian was still one of the best flyers in the group. He wished he could remember what had happened, but all he could recall was the freeing feeling of flying and falling, and at some point, he must have just not caught himself. What an idiot.

Iskall entered the room then, looking relieved that Grian was up and holding what looked like another potion for him.

“Iskall.” Grian addressed, turning to include him in the circle as Iskall pulled up the other chair.

“That was an omega fall, man.” Iskall grinned, his smile melting any apprehension or worry from everyone in the room. “Here’s another health potion for you. The first one should have helped anything major.”

“It did.” Grian smiled. “Still a bit achy, but I don’t feel too much of it.” He took the bottle from Iskall and began to work on drinking it, the slightly bitter taste making it difficult, but the sweet aftertaste making it worth it. He could feel the effects almost immediately, his body feeling a little less heavy and his pain subsiding a bit more.

“What in the world happened anyway?” Mumbo asked, leaning back in his chair to let Iskall reach over for the empty bottle when Grian finished. “You scrape yourself up sometimes, but not like this.”

“I’m not sure,” Grian said, trying to think of what had happened before he crashed, but not being able to find anything. “I might have just gone too high or got distracted. I just remember waking up here.”

“Whatever it was, it’s a good thing you’re alive. Mumbo would kill you if you died.”

The three of them laughed at Iskall’s joke, the atmosphere in the tree base homely and the air around them light. Grian had his family to look out for him, and it meant the world to him.

“Iskall you don’t have a spare elytra lying around, do you?”


End file.
